BAD FICTION AND DIRTY LAUNDRY: SEX FOR CHRISTMAS

It was the Christmas the big owl flew right by the window.

It wasn’t exactly on Christmas but it was close enough.

A few nights before Christmas Tyler was in the living room watching TV when the shadow of the giant bird fell on one of the windows.  Wings wide, it was if the bird was diving for the house and pulled out of the dive at the last second.  Tyler saw the night bird, the flapping wings.

Tyler jumped up and ran to the window.

There was the owl flapping, illuminated by a street light, winging its way up and coming to rest at the top of the light pole.

The thing was huge.

Tyler wondered why.

There was probably a simple explanation, but he thought there was more to this.
Tyler believed this was some kind of sign, an omen.

Tyler went to his computer and looked up “owl crossing window” and “owl omen,” things like that.

Nothing.

The next day at work Tyler asked his pal, The Herbalist, what she thought of the owl flying by the window.

Tyler called her The Herbalist because of her constant talk of taking all kinds of herbs every day, including herbs for a daily enema which she had no qualms of talking about, referring to them as her “Daily E.”

“If you think it’s an omen then it’s an omen,” she said.

“But of what?” asked Tyler.

“What do you think it portends?”

“Something bad,” said Tyler.  Her questions sounded like a psychoanalyst’s.  Then he remembered, she mentioned that she was once a psychotherapist.

“Well,” said The Herbalist, “If you don’t know what it means then you’ll have to wait and see what happens.  When something happens that you connect with the owl omen then you know it was an omen about that.”

Many things in the hippie town of Bisbee, Arizona were described in such a Zen fashion.  Tyler didn’t actually know what Zen was but The Herbalist’s take on everything sounded like what he thought Zen might sound like.

It was also the Christmas of a Christmas Eve full moon.

It was the first Christmas Eve full moon since 1950.  There wouldn’t be another one until 2102.  That might have been fine and dandy except as Tyler and Alex were walking in the cold desert night in the border town of Naco there was a ring around the full Christmas Eve moon.

“Ring around the moon, trouble here soon,” said Tyler.  “That was in that Sandra Bullock witch movie, what was it…can’t remember…”

“’Practical Magic,’” said Katherine, “But I remember it as a Nicole Kidman movie.”

“Sandra Bullock has good teeth,” said Tyler. “That’s why I remember it.”

“You remember people by the weirdest shit,” said Alex.

They were walking back from a party at Katherine’s.  Katherine was an artist, working in oils.  Tyler liked her stuff.  She did a lot of landscapes.  One in particular he liked was of a town square deep in the interior of Mexico.  The painting reminded him of the first Mexican town square he walked in many years ago…dudes kicking back in the shade of palm trees, women carrying shopping bags.

Above all though, Katherine Carter lived by her art.  Prices on her works started at $1000. If Katherine’s art wasn’t selling in the galleries of Bisbee, Tucson, Scottsdale or Santa Fe she had no money for groceries.  Katherine refused to get a job, she believed it would corrupt her art.

It was in the middle of the year that Katherine hit a dry spell…none of her stuff was selling anywhere.  So for the past few months Tyler and Alex had been giving Katherine about $200 a month.

“It’s our job to support the arts,” said Alex.

“You know,” said Tyler, “This is weird.  I’m a manager, I’m not a millionaire.  I think it’s more of the job of the upper classes to support the arts.”

“We have the money,” said Alex.  “Between your job and my dance studio we’ll do alright.”

Problem was was that Alex bartered out a lot of dance lessons for the artists of Bisbee.  Her income barely covered the studio’s expenses.

“She’ll pay us back,” said Alex.

“I don’t believe that,” said Tyler.  “But it’s Katherine, so…what the hell.”

“Katherine says if she can’t she’ll give you that painting of hers you like.”

Tyler thought maybe that wasn’t such a bad deal.  Katherine had a $1200 price tag on that work.

Money for Katherine started in May.  Then June, July, August…  Finally in November a gallery in Santa Fe sent her a check for $5000.  Then another one of her works sold in Scottsdale.  A $1400 check came to her in the mail.

So Katherine had a Christmas Eve party. That’s why Tyler and Alex were in Naco.

After the dinner of tamales, posole’ and enchiladas preceded by copious amounts of beer and tequila Katherine handed an envelope to Tyler.

He opened it.

There was a check for $1400.

“Oh,” said Tyler.  “Money.”

He handed it to Alex.  She looked at it.

“Um,” said Tyler.

Alex kicked him under the table.  Tyler looked at her.  They locked eyes.

“Um,” he said.

Alex kicked him again.

Tyler handed the envelope back to Katherine.

“I tell you what,” said Tyler, “You take this and open a savings account for when those hard times come again.”

Katherine looked at Tyler and touched his hand.

“Thank you,” she said looking into his eyes.  She had big eyes.

Katherine had big boobs too, but he wasn’t supposed to look at those.  But he wondered why… if she knew it was just going to be the three of them this evening why was she showing so much cleavage?

Katherine nodded to Alex.

“Both of you feel this way?” Katherine asked.

“Sure,” said Alex.  “It’s why I was kicking him under the table.”

They all laughed.

“Well,” said Katherine as she stood.  “Then I want you to have your favorite painting of mine.”

“Oh my,” said Tyler.

Katherine walked over to the wall where the Mexican scene hung and took it down.  She presented it to Tyler.

Christmas Day came to Tyler and Alex’s house.  They had gotten each other presents.  They opened them in the morning.  Alex then went to the kitchen and started fixing up a lot of food, they were having a Christmas come-and-go buffet.  Friends were invited to come over between noon and 4 and have a plate or two, sit around and shoot the shit on Christmas Day.

And the friends came.

Old Lady D who had basically given the dance studio to Alex came by.  She and Alex sat and chatted to the exclusion of Tyler.  Old Lady D was married to a retired CIA dude who was dead now.  She knew Jack Ruby…the guy who gunned down Kennedy’s assassin…that was one story.  Then there was the story of when she took her New York City students to audition for “West Side Story” and was dismissed outright because the choreographer said her students “danced like they’d never been f*%ked.”

The Swansons came by.  The Swansons had cuts and bruises.

“Got in a fight in The Gulch last night,” said Mr. Swanson.  The Gulch would be Brewery Gulch where Bisbee’s beer joints stood.

“Yeah,” said Mrs. Swanson.  “He kicked some ass.”

“Nobody talks to my wife like that without consequences,” said Mr. Swanson smiling as he slapped a fist into a palm.

“They kicked each other’s asses last night,” said Alex after they left.  “You know that, don’t you?”

“Noooo,” said Tyler.

“Yeah, their fights are notorious,” said Alex.  “It started years ago.  He was abusive.  Then she started fighting back.  And they stay together.”

“Not dysfunctional at all,” said Tyler sarcastically.

More old hippie townsfolk came by, had a bite to eat with the town dance teacher and her husband with the racist Southern accent, at least that’s what he heard they called Tyler behind his back.

And soon the sun was setting on the day.

Alex was in the kitchen washing dishes and Tyler was drying.

“I was thinking about another Christmas gift for you,  but I thought better of it,” said Alex.

“Oh?”

“I was thinking about letting you have sex with Katherine for Christmas.”

Tyler set down the plate he was drying along with the towel.  He furrowed his brow.

“What?” he said through squinted eyes.

“You heard me,” said Alex.  “But then I thought better of it.  I thought it would just bring us problems.”

“What?” asked Tyler.

“You both want it so bad,” she said.  “If she had a tail she’d be wagging it every time you get near her, don’t tell me you don’t sense it.  Hell, if you had a tail you’d be wagging it when you got around her.  And you’re always looking at her tits.”

“No I’m not,” said Tyler.

“Ohhhh-kaaaaay,” Alex said real slow with a low voice.  “So you try hard NOT to stare at her tits.”

“Wait,” said Tyler.  “You mean you TALKED TO HER ABOUT THIS?”

“Sure,” said Alex.  “Tyler, it’s just sex.”

“Sex for you and me is something just you and I do,” said Tyler.

“Yeah,” said Alex as she kept washing dishes, “But I’m not so into it anymore.”

Tyler just stared at her.

“Oh we’ll DO IT, I’m just not that INTO IT,” she said as she kept washing dishes.

Tyler raised his eyebrows, sighed, picked up his towel and went back to drying the dishes.

“But like I said, it’s off the table.  After I thought about it I thought there’d be nothing but trouble.  You’d want to do it AGAIN or there’d be FEELINGS, and it would just be messy,” said Alex.  “Did you WANT to have sex with Katherine?”

Tyler laughed and kept drying the dishes.

“Well?”

“I really can’t wrap my brain around that,” said Tyler with a smile.

E P I L O G U E

After that Christmas Alex grew more and more distant.

They actually had some loud arguments with Tyler ending up sleeping on the couch.  This was something new in his life.  He was a big believer in patching things up before turning in for the night if there ever was an argument.

Those mornings-after Alex would wake up Tyler early and say, “I want you to move out.”

They’d talk, Tyler would stay.

Tyler and Alex broke up a year-and-a-half later.

Tyler kind of knew it was going to happen.

He had called his buddy Winston the week after that Christmas and told him about Alex’s idea of “The Gift of Sex with Katherine.”  It was an idea that messed with his head and he needed to talk to someone about it.

“Brother, I’m gonna tell you something…you won’t like it and you won’t do anything about it because I know you,” said Winston.  “But things are over for you and Alex.”

There was silence on the line.

“Really,” said Tyler.

“DUDE,” said Winston, “She’s outsourcing y’all’s sex from the relationship.”

“Wow,” said Tyler, “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“But like I said, you won’t do anything about this.”

“I can’t wrap my brain around the concept that it’s over,” said Tyler.

“I’m gonna tell you something else,” said Winston.  “Your friends have known for years…that you care about that woman a helluva lot more than she cares about you.”

“Hmmmmmm,” said Tyler.

And Winston was right.

About everything.

Tyler didn’t do anything about it, he kept hoping things would change.

But they didn’t.

And one day the caring just ran out.

Tyler left Arizona and moved back to New Mexico.

And Alex took up with a waitress…a woman… named Annabelle.

And things suddenly made sense.

Sort of.

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